


the bird refuses to sing

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Series: the sass and murder show [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Frenemies Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson, I have no excuse for this ball of floofy happiness, M/M, POV Sam Wilson, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 09:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: Throw himself from a skyscraper.Manipulate his own wings until they falter mid flight.Throw himself down 5 flights of stairs.Tell Natasha her thigh game is weak.Tell Bruce to calm down.Sam would rather die than put up with Steve and Bucky's mushiness.Why did he ever agree to dinner at Bucky and Steve's? That's right, they'd sworn other people would be there as well. In fact, Bucky had went so far as to add in Tony's bringing a gourmet arugula salad, complete with poppyseed dressing. Instead, Sam is camped out on a soft earth toned sofa with what feels like dozens of tiny throw pillows. A man could suffocate on this thing.





	

Throw himself from a skyscraper.

Manipulate his own wings until they falter mid flight.

Throw himself down 5 flights of stairs.

Tell Natasha her thigh game is weak.

Tell Bruce to calm down.

 

He'd rather die than put up with Steve and Bucky's mushiness. 

Why did he ever agree to dinner at their place? That's right, they'd sworn other people would be there as well. In fact, Bucky had went so far as to add in Tony's bringing a gourmet arugula salad, complete with poppyseed dressing. Instead, Sam is camped out on a soft earth toned sofa with what feels like dozens of tiny throw pillows. A man could suffocate on this thing.

"How long until the pizza arrives?," he asks. He's been present a grand total of ten minutes and already in the mood for scaling the fire escape and making a run for it. Brooklyn is beautiful in Autumn and their apartment isn't a 5 star joint but it's cozy. Framed black and white photo's adorn the walls alongside Steve's paintings, the place smells like a damn apple pie (which is cruel, by the way), a neat row of succulents line the kitchen window and Sam is miserable. If he'd known he'd be the one lone guest, he would've stayed home to catch up on Luke Cage. For that matter, he has four flavors of popcorn to try. They'd been purposely purchased for lazy Netflix nights and yet they're gathering dust in the kitchen cabinet.

Bucky glances at a wall mounted clock that appears to have time traveled from the 1940's and lived to tell about it. Poor bastard.

"Should be about 10 minutes."

Steve turns and grins like an idiot. The man hadn't even muttered anything profound and yet Steve is staring as if he'd recited Pablo Neruda. They're disgustingly in love and Sam is forever alone.

"Tell me again why I'm here?," he asks.

It takes a moment for Steve to even register the words. Jesus Christ, he's had that sappy look glued to his face since the fateful day Barnes mumbled something about newspaper and shoes. He'd hoped it would be a short term thing but they're going on six months and it appears to be permanent.

Bucky pipes up instead and shrugs. "We've tried inviting ourselves over to your place, Wilson, but here's the thing. It makes me sad."

Steve breaks into a wide grin and the side of Bucky's mouth twitches in a failing attempt to restrain his amusement at Sam's behalf.

Sad? A person doesn't need thousands of older than dirt photo's tacked to the walls to be happy, nor do they need godforsaken microscopic overly stuffed pillows. He's quite content, thank you.

He crosses his arms and pins Bucky with the hardest glare he can muster. "Bed Bath & Beyond called, Barnes. They want their entire inventory of pillows back."

Steve cackles and Bucky shoots him a sour face. _He_ bought them then. Figures as much. He probably owns every As Seen on TV product too. Bet he even has a secret stash of potpourri in those little baskets that every woman over the age of fifty seems to own. 

Cold steely blue eyes narrow in on their target but Sam's not scared. Barnes is a harmless pile of oatmeal when Steve is around or when he exists, for that matter. It's hard to believe that the man sitting before him with a Captain America shirt on and nearly parted hair from another decade was ever an assassin. He comes off as very human like this and it makes Sam want to poke at him even more simply because there's a guaranteed reaction.

"They were on sale," Bucky grits. 

Steve intertwines their hands and smiles. "We had to share a pillow for years, didn't we Buck? Never could scrape up enough money to buy a spare. Slept in the same bed from 18 to 24-"

Bucky brightens, having immediately forgotten his petty bitterness. "-it had a spring on my side so I ended up rolling right to the middle every night. Sometimes I did it on purpose just to get a feel for Steve. Never cared for elbows in my ribs but."

And there's the sappiness again. Steve squeezes his hand and if he smiles any harder he might spontaneously combust before the pizza even arrives. At this point, Sam wouldn't mind a bit. He had it coming for interrupting Sam's alone time; doesn't he know America depends upon it? Without it he turns into a walking Snickers commercial; no he's not himself when he's on edge. He checks the time, pizza should arrive any minute now.

 

Steve launches into a spiel about Bucky working too hard and how _no we made it just fine without another mattress, now stop this. You're making me feel like Sam's apartment._

Maybe he could pay a neighbor to stab him with a-

The doorbell rings. Sweet merciful heaven, he's saved. With a gentle pat to Bucky's knee, Steve pays for the food and tips a very enthusiastic kid with an uncanny ability to make things worse. The kid (no more than eighteen) talks rapidly about how he saw Steve's face on the front of a magazine and _Omg will you sign my name tag?! Or something...my hand! Oh oh oh! This! Make it out to Mara, that's my mom. She read your comics as a kid!!_

A quick uneventful death - eating outdated cheese perhaps? Fuzzy leftovers? 

 

After what feels like seventy years and two elderly superhero defrosts later, Steve slides the pizza onto the kitchen table and pulls out plates. It's going as well as having dinner with two overly affectionate touch starved fossils could go...until.

"Grab me another slice?"

"Cheese or supreme?"

Bucky thinks. "Supreme. One with mountains of banana peppers."

Steve slides a spatula under the steaming slice and Bucky just... "Y'know, Steve. You're even sexier when you're pickin' up pizza."

A Greyhound bus, one swift hit then boom _dead._ It would be a mercy kill.

Steve- Captain America ain't scared of nothing- Rogers _blushes._ He'd once confided in Sam that being with Bucky made him feel like he was sixteen again and honestly, Sam didn't need to see the proof.

Steve, in all his six foot glory, glances in Bucky's direction then sweeps his eyes back to the task at hand. He beams the entire time and okay, alright. It feels great to know that he's really and truly happy even if Sam doesn't care for the source of that joy. It's wrapped up in black leather and a smile that could charm the pants off of anyone despite being kept on ice for decades. That person once ripped a steering wheel right out of Sam's hands and he tried to murder them. No big deal. Water under the bridge.

"Sap," Steve murmurs as he passes the slice over.

They eat in relative silence and Sam can't help but notice how at ease they both are. He was a soldier, he knows the value of peace and how terrifying it can feel to entrust another person with your life. When he first met Steve, he was not a human being. He was a machine with missions and a name. But once Barnes sauntered back into his life with most of his memory intact, Steve has remembered what it felt like to live and breathe again.

As for Barnes, he's rough around the edges but can meet Sam wit for wit; that's the only part of him Sam cares for. _Bucky_ is a wing damaging, Sparta kicking, steering wheel stealing jerk and that's all Sam has to say about that.

 

The evening carries on and he finds himself relaxing. Okay, fine. They were right. He's lonely as hell and his place has no life force to breathe into it; no ridiculous new home goods that he can justify. But they've made it clear that he is always welcome in this life they've carved out together and it makes his chest feel tight with affection. He wasn't the first to claim Steve Rogers as a pal nor will he be the last but he matters in a nearly identical way (sans the romance).

As he says his goodbyes from the frame of their opened door, Bucky shoves a lime green/taupe throw pillow in his arms. "Take this."

Sam nearly protests but there's an earnest genuine glint in Bucky's eye that says he knows that lonely 3am insomnia fueled feeling all too well. So he tucks it under his arm. "Thanks man."

He could make a jab about how it'd clash with the rug and ruin the moment with a joke but he's genuinely grateful for the gesture. It's little but it means a lot.

With a tight smile that still struggles to form (he is learning to be more aware of his body, it's a slow journey), Bucky replies. "You're welcome."

Steve claps Sam on the shoulder, affectionately. "Bucky found an old recipe book in a thrift store last week, he's going to try his hand at rhubarb pie next week. You should drop in to make sure neither of us have died from smoke inhalation."

Sam can't help himself, he laughs. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about."

Bucky scowls, arms across his chest. "I've never burned a pie in my whole life."

Steve guffaws. "1932. The whole building had to be evacuated. What flavor was it supposed to be, Buck?"

"Lemon," Bucky grumbles.

Sam is spent and stuffed on two different flavors of pizza. As entertaining it is to watch Steve roast Bucky, he wants to get home and slip into a nice pair of sweats. "Tell you what, you text me the day and I'll be here with a fire extinguisher."

Bucky shakes his head and Steve slides an arm around his waist. "Bring two."

"Four," Sam chuckles. 

He's halfway down the flight of stairs that lead away from their apartment when he hears Bucky call out, "Forget something?" The throw pillow lands with a soft thud. You look how I feel, he thinks. Its front is dusted with sidewalk dust and grease stains from tonight's pizza. But we're gonna be okay. 

With a wave of thanks thrown over his shoulder, he hails a taxi and heads home.

He survived and maybe that's not such a bad thing.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-67579.html


End file.
